Blood Curse
by littleaiman026
Summary: The war is over, but not for Draco. He has to deal with being the most hated at school, while his mother suffers an illness that could soon kill her, and his father is in Azkaban for his crimes. And not to mention working alongside the bushy haired know-it-all. He just wants to survive the year, she wants him to forgive himself. 8th year. EWE.
1. Chapter 1: The Dream

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own anything except the plot. All the original characters belong to J. K. Rowling.**

 **AN** **: Thank you EmDani522 for beta-ing this chapter. You are awesome!**

 **This is my first Dramione multi-chapter fic ever, so your reviews would mean the world to me.**

 **I wrote a one-shot, 'The First Friend' as a sort of background to this story. Do check it out and review.**

 **Also, I recently joined Tumblr, so feel free to seek me out there if you ever want to catch up. I'm still new so there isn't much there, but I'm working on it. My tumblr is sparkleme26 .**

 _But you see, it's not me, it's not my family_

 _In your head, in your head, they are fighting_

 _With their tanks, and their bombs,_

 _And their bombs, and their guns_

 _In your head, in your head they are crying._

 _\- Zombie, The Cranberries_

 **~O~**

 _The woman looked down at the girl that lay barely conscious at her feet and laughed, a sinister sound that rang in the whole room. Her black hair was wild and unruly, a cold cruel look in her heavy lidded eyes._

 _"Hermione Granger," Bellatrix almost sang as she bent down and grabbed her hair in a fist. "Tell me what else you took from the vault? Tell me! Crucio!" she shrieked, almost madly, as Hermione cried out in pain._

 _"We didn't take anything," Hermione cried as she lay writhing on the cold floor, and she let out another piercing scream._

 _"Liar," her torturer sneered as she started carving on the girls arm while she screamed and cried in pain._

 _The boy stood to the side watching, wishing against hope that he could somehow stop his aunt from torturing his classmate even though he himself hated her. He could see the word 'mudlood' carved on her arm, blood dripping from it. 'Mudblood,' a word he himself had called her countless number of times, he realised as his stomach churned with guilt and something that resembled helplessness._

 _"Crucio!' Bellatrix pointed her wand again at the girl at her feet as she let out a blood curdling scream._

"No!" Draco screamed as his eyes shot open and he sat up with a start, confused at his surroundings.

He looked around at his bedroom, painfully aware of the fact that this was the same house he had watched his classmate and so many others being tortured and even killed.

It had been five months since the war that had defeated Voldemort once and for all, but he remembered everything clearly, no matter how hard he tried to forget. The memories kept creeping back in his nightmares and did not even spare his waking moments. His own conscience haunted him the most.

After all, here he was, Draco Malfoy, alive and well. A survivor of the war, but a survivor who has spent too long fighting from the wrong side of the battle only to realise that everything he had been raised to believe and fight for was a cold, cruel, manipulative lie.

He had been raised to serve and worship someone who wouldn't even flinch before finishing him off lest he ever became a liability.

He shuddered at the thought of how many people Voldemort had made him torture, made him do his bidding under the threat of killing him and his family. And where did that lead him? After all, his father was in Azkaban and his mother was almost on the verge of death, weak and frail.

 _For what_ , he thought, _so they could rule over muggles who never caused them any harm?_

He now realised how pointless all of that was and how foolish he had been to follow the footsteps of his father. Lucius Malfoy believed that pureblood wizards were superior to everyone else and were meant to rule. His father was cruel, Draco had to admit that. He truly believed in what he was fighting for and Draco had spent all his life trying to impress him, not even realising he was turning into someone he never truly wanted to be.

~O~


	2. Chapter 2: The Letter

**Disclaimer** **: I own nothing except for the plot. If I did, Dramione would be canon xP**

 **AN** **: Thank you everyone who added this story to their favourite and follow lists right after I posted that tiny first chapter. And also to everyone who left all those lovely reviews. *Grins like a loon* You guys are angels!**

 **Also, sorry for the lack of replies to the reviews. My reply links aren't working and I'm not getting most of the notifications too, so still figuring that out.**

 **Thank you EmDani522 for beta-ing this chapter, and for all those little notes of motivation you add to the reviews. Like I said, you are awesome!**

 **My tumblr is sparkleme26. If you ever want to catch up, you know where to find me.**

 **-xxxx-**

" _You'll come back when it's over,_

 _No need to say goodbye."_

 _-The Call, Regina Spektor_

-O-

Hermione sat staring out the window of the room that she shared with Ginny while at the Burrow, absently playing with her letter from Hogwarts that had arrived earlier that morning. Harry, Ron, and Ginny had gotten theirs too. Ever since the war, all she had thought about was how so much had changed, so much they had lost that they would never get back. Now she was getting some of it back, she was getting a chance to go back to Hogwarts and finish her education, but she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She wondered about how Hogwarts would be without Professor Dumbledore and his wisdom, or even Professor Snape with his cold exterior but brilliant mind. So many lives had been lost within the walls of that castle that night, though she knew that they hadn't died in vain.

She sat lost in thought when she heard a knock on the door. She turned around to see Harry standing there, Ron trailing behind him.

"Hey," Harry beamed at her, while Ron grinned. Without a word, Hermione got up and engulfed Harry in a big hug, pulling Ron along. For a minute, the three of them just stood there grinning at each other. It almost felt like just another year when they would get back from their summer holidays, gathering at the Burrow just before another term of school started.

"Hey, Harry and I got one too," Ron said eyeing the envelope with the Hogwarts seal that sat on the windowsill where Hermione had been sitting moments ago.

"Yours feels a tad bit heavier," Harry said, weighing the package in his hands, and then handed it to Hermione.

"Does it?" she said as she peered into the envelope again and gasped. She had been too lost in thought to notice the Head Girl badge that sat in the corner of her envelope, hidden by the letter. "Wow."

"You made Head Girl, I mean we already knew you would but…" Ron stopped mid-sentence, but she knew what he wanted to say. After everything that had happened in the past year, they weren't even sure they would ever go back to school. Yet here she was holding the Head Girl badge, something that symbolised a future she hadn't let herself dream of ever since the war.

"Brilliant," Harry said excitedly, "congratulations Hermione."

"We should tell Mum. I mean we've got to go to Diagon Alley, buy books and supplies," Ron said, getting to his feet.

"I'm not going back to Hogwarts," Harry mumbled reluctantly, glancing at his two best friends for their reactions.

"Harry you can't be serious," Ron looked at him like he'd grown a third eye or something.

"With everything that's happened there Ron, I don't think I can go back. Dumbledore and Snape and everyone we lost, even Ginny's life was in danger in our second year because of me. Besides, remember I had already said last year that I wasn't coming back," Harry reminded them.

"But that was before," Hermione said. "We've found and destroyed all the horcruxes, and we won the war Harry." She sighed, looking at him with pleading eyes. "Look, I know it's difficult. We lost so many people and honestly, Hogwarts feels like a part of a whole another life, but this is what we've been fighting for, isn't it? This safety, this certainty, a future, that's what we'd been fighting for. And now we have it," she said softly, her eyes shining with tears she wouldn't let out.

Ron looked at the both of them, about to say something just as Ginny knocked on the door. "Mum says dinner is ready," she said, her eyes fell on Harry for a second and then she was gone.

The three of them made their way to the cramped living room downstairs which right now was full of people. All the Weasley's were there, even Charlie, Bill, and Fleur, who had been visiting regularly. Hermione noted with a heavy feeling in her heart how noticeable the absence of Fred was. George tried his best to be his cheery self for his mother's sake, but even his attempts were almost half hearted at times.

In the corner of the room sitting opposite a lost looking Percy was Andromeda Tonks, and a bright blue haired baby was laughing happily in her arms.

"Teddy!" Hermione beamed as she crossed the room and hugged Andromeda. "It's so good to see you."

Andromeda smiled and hugged her tightly before handing little Teddy Lupin to her. Ever since the war, they had spent a lot of time together as Harry was Teddy's godfather, and they visited back and forth frequently to help Andromeda take care of the baby and also give her company. She never failed to mention how much she appreciated.

"Mum we got our letters and booklists," Ginny nudged Molly Weasley, "we've got to go to Diagon Alley."

"And Hermione became Head Girl," Harry added with a smile.

"You did? Oh Hermione dear, of course, we already knew you would. Oh how proud I am!" Molly engulfed Hermione in a hug as a single tear slid down from her eye.

With Hermione's parents gone when she had erased their memories to keep them safe, Molly had become something of a mother figure to her, just like she had to Harry ever since their first year.

"Very well then, we'll go to Diagon Alley first thing in the morning and get all your things," she said to the four of them.

Hermione caught Harry's eye and looked at him hopefully. "I'll go," he nodded in her direction as Ron clapped him on the back, grinning.

Looking around the room filled with so many people she loved, her best friends beside her and the war behind them, Hermione let herself feel hope for the first time in months.

 **~O~**

Draco looked again at the Head Boy badge lying on the desk in front of him. He had gotten a letter from Hogwarts to finish his final year, that was surprise enough, but they had made him Head Boy too? His grades were good, he was always second in his class, second to Hermione Granger of course, but he still couldn't believe he had been made Head Boy. He had been a Death Eater, after all, and had tried to kill the Headmaster too.

He remembered back to when he had had his hearing at the Wizengamot. They had rounded up almost all of the Death Eaters. All of them had been given a fair hearing and then sent to Azkaban, their sentence depending on the severity of their crimes. His own father, Lucius, being Voldemort's right hand for the most part, was given lifetime imprisonment.

Narcissa and Draco had been spared though, because Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had testified for them. His mother had lied to the darkest wizard of all time that Harry Potter was dead, saving both Draco and Potter's life. He shuddered to think what the consequences would have been had Voldemort figured out that she had lied. He realised he had done the same when he had lied in front Bellatrix and other death eaters about not recognising Potter.

He remembered how sick he had felt of all their games and cruelty. How he hated being forced to be a killer, something he never had the stomach for anyway.

He sighed, hating how every time his thoughts swirled around, they landed on the same horrors, forcing him to keep reliving them, whether he was asleep or awake.

He wondered again if he even wanted to go back to Hogwarts. He picked up the Head Boy badge, and realised that sitting around at home wouldn't solve anything either. At least he could complete his education this way, and his mother would want him to go.

 **~O~**

 **AN: Your reviews mean the world to me! Tell me what you think?**


	3. Chapter 3: The Fallen

**Disclaimer** **: I own nothing but the plot.**

 **AN** **: Thank you EmDani522 for the amazing beta work :D**

 **A lot of people are curious about the title. Well, you'll know soon enough.**

 **And thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favourites.**

 **I've been working on some random dramione edits, they're up on my tumblr. ( sparkleme26)**

 **-xxxx-**

" _In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene,_

 _Only then I am human,_

 _Only then I am clean."_

 _-Take Me To Church, Hozier_

 _-O-_

Draco paced the length of his room, stopping every now and then to look in the mirror at his frazzled silver-blond hair and the ever-present frown on his face. He looked at his reflection yet again and scowled. He was angry, but worse than that, he was worried.

He felt like he had been given a death sentence. As soon as Draco graduates from Hogwarts, he would have to step up as the Malfoy heir to keep up appearances. He would be expected to marry a pureblood witch and try to redeem the Malfoy name in the Wizarding world.

For the millionth time since his father had gone to prison, Draco thought about how unfair it was that at just nineteen he had to take over the image his father represented for so many years. Not only the Malfoy image, but upholding ideals he wasn't even sure he believed in anymore. What he chose to do with that position was up to him though, and he often wondered that it might even be an opportunity to redeem themselves and let go of the false superior ideals that the Malfoy name represented. No matter what though, Draco could not help but feel that he was too young for such a responsibility. From the youngest death eater to the youngest Malfoy heir, who would have thought?

He absently rubbed the Dark Mark on his arm which was red and sore from all his vain attempts to scrub it off. It had started fading and it no longer hurt or burned, but Draco wanted the mark gone. He wanted to rid himself of it and feel clean again.

"Draco?"

Narcissa stood at his door, a worried expression on her face as she watched him rub at his Dark Mark bearing arm. Catching her gaze, he pulled his sleeve down and walked over to her. "Yes mother?"

"I want you to meet someone before you leave for Hogwarts. Get ready, I'll be waiting in the sitting room," she said and walked out the door.

Draco groaned, wondering if it was another one of her attempts to get him acquainted with an eligible pureblood witch, considering how very few there were left that were his age and didn't run in the opposite direction at the mention of the Malfoy name. Not that he cared even if they did. He couldn't get far enough away from them.

He changed and quickly finished his last minute packing for school before meeting his mother in the sitting room. From there they apparated to a small village near Hogsmeade.

They were in front of what looked like a graveyard, guarded with a fence and a metal gate. Narcissa pushed the gate open and they took a few steps inside, stopping in front of a tall pillar. It was a beautiful granite obelisk, standing at almost eight feet tall. Perched on top of it was an almost lifelike Phoenix, which flapped its wings. Draco reached out and touched the obelisk before flinching and withdrawing his hand. Realisation dawned on him slowly that it was a memorial for all those who had fallen in the war.

Narcissa sensed his hesitation and squeezed his hand as she softly said, "it's okay."

He nodded and once again reached out for the pillar, hesitantly tracing on the names etched in the stone. He then stepped back, letting his hands fall to his side and looked at his mother.

"Why are we here?" he asked, feeling angry at himself and the ignorance he so proudly wore not very long ago.

"Come," she said before walking further into the graveyard. As they passed, several familiar names stood out to Draco, and he felt a pang of guilt rise up in his chest. They had been his classmates, acquaintances, if not friends.

They stopped in front of the grave of Nymphadora Tonks, and Draco immediately understood why. In different circumstances, she could have been someone he would have grown up with. He looked around, stalling.

Beside her lay the grave of her husband and his former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin. A little ahead of him, he spotted the grave of Fred Weasley. He remembered the moment Fred had died, one moment the redhead was laughing at his brothers' joke and the next the wall had blasted through and before anyone could even make sense of what had happened, he had hit the ground.

The twins were the only Weasleys Draco couldn't bring himself to hate. In fact, he respected their genius and their light hearted attitude towards life. Their jokes and pranks in school were actually quite funny.

He shook his head and realised his mother was watching him, something that looked a lot like regret etched on her face.

"Nymphadora," she said in a gentle voice, "was your cousin. She was my sister Andromeda's daughter. All of these beliefs that our families had – _have_ \- drove my sister away," she paused, getting a little choked up. "Had things been different, you would have known each other and grown up as a family, maybe."

Draco realised how difficult this must be for his mother, knowing how much she valued family.

He remembered seeing Nymphadora in Hogsmeade or patrolling around in school in the months leading up to the war. He knew she was an Auror and worked with the Order of the Phoenix. He also had vague, blurry memories of seeing her once or twice as a kid when his mother used to secretly meet with her sister. The meetings were few and far apart and had eventually stopped by the time he was six years old. He didn't know why and he never cared to ask. He still remembered his cousin and how her hair always stood out to him because it was a different colour each time.

"Draco," his mother said, a troubled expression on her face, "this war, these past two years, have been devastating and life changing. I won't say that I came out clean on the other side; I've been raised to believe certain things and spent my whole life holding those ideals up, but I have also seen how damaging those beliefs have been. I almost lost my family to them, so I want to do my best to reconcile, but more than that, I hope that you don't let these prejudices darken your world. I hope that you learn to think for your own self and make decisions true to your heart."

Draco didn't know what to say so he just nodded and stared ahead, not wanting to look at his mother. He had never been given a chance to test his beliefs. As a child he had idolised his father, and as he grew old enough to think for himself, he found himself in a situation where it was either following stagnant ideals or death. He didn't know how to come back from that, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Promise me you'll try," Narcissa said, as if she had just read his thoughts.

Draco smiled and nodded.

"Mother, can we stay here for a while?" he asked.

"Of course."

Draco sat down on the grass in front of his cousins' grave, and for the first time without caring for appearances, Narcissa sat down beside him.

They had been sitting there in silence for almost ten minutes before they heard a voice just behind them. "Cissy?" the woman said, not masking her surprise. Draco and Narcissa both stood up.

"Meda," Narcissa blinked, looking at the woman who could only be her sister, his aunt Andromeda. She looked scared, and just a little bit relieved. "Andromeda," she repeated.

"Is this..." Narcissa trailed off, looking down at the baby her sister was holding. He had blue hair that was very slowly turning to a white-blond like his own. Draco stared in astonishment, his mouth agape. The little boy was looking at him with a curious smile of his own.

"Dora's son, Teddy," Andromeda finished for Narcissa. "He is a metamorphogus too." She was smiling, his mother's relief echoed in her own eyes.

They stood for a moment without anything to say when suddenly Narcissa remembered Draco. "You remember Draco," she said to her sister, who nodded.

"Of course, I haven't seen you since you were six," Andromeda smiled at him before addressing Narcissa. "He has grown into a handsome young man." This made Narcissa smile proudly.

"I'm sorry, I know I should have tried to make things better, should have..." Narcissa started but Andromeda cut her off with a firm "No."

"It happened, we all made choices, it's time we move forward from them," she said and Narcissa nodded, relief radiating off of her. Draco was surprised at how easily his aunt had forgiven her sister.

The sisters talked about their lives, and Draco just stood there staring at the baby and around the graveyard, that somehow felt both like a punishment and a gift to him.

 **-O-**

 **AN** **: Let me know what you think?**

 **Suggestions regarding plot, characters are more than welcome. This is my first multi chapter Dramione and I'd love feedback.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Curse

**Disclaimer** **: I own nothing except for the plot.**

 **AN** **: I want to start by saying that I'm awfully sorry for the late update. I haven't been doing well. There will be a delay in posts for a while and I apologise for that.**

 **That said, thank you for the incredible support you guys show in your reviews, and so much love to everyone who has added this to favourite and follow lists. Your reviews is the fuel my writing needs so keep 'em coming. 3**

 **I made a Dramione edit that I posted on my tumblr and I was floored with the love that post got. You make me feel loved.**

 **I made one edit for this chapter too. Tumblr: sparkleme26**

 **And most importantly, thank you EmDani522 for beta reading this story.**

 **-O-**

" _When I was 16, my senses fooled me,_

 _Thought gasoline was on my clothes_

 _I knew that something would always rule me..._

 _I knew the scent was mine alone."_

 _\- Arsonist's Lullaby, Hozier_

 **-O-**

Draco grew more morose by the time Headmistress McGonagall had finished her welcome speech and start of term announcements. All the returning students who had missed their seventh year – now known as eighth years - would be sharing a separate dormitory and would not be living in their respective house dorms. That meant Draco would probably have to share a dorm room with the-boy-who-wouldn't-die and his ginger sidekick. Blech.

Well, at least Blaise Zabini was here with him to endure the torture. Not that the impending forced companionship seemed to affect his housemate much. He wasn't the one who had joined the Death Eaters and attempted to kill Dumbledore, after all. That was all Draco, and his father; the root of the cause. Whoever you chose to blame, really.

"I would request all the heads of the houses to kindly escort fourth years and below to their dormitories please, and I have a few more announcements for the rest of the students here." McGonagall said.

Draco groaned. Living with the Gryffindorks was bad enough, what else did they have to add to his platter of misery now?

The Headmistress waited as the younger years cleared out of the Great Hall, and then began again, glancing over the spectacles on the bridge of her nose. "Keeping in mind what happened last year, I would like to address a few things. Young as you are, you have all been instruments in a war that had been taking root for ages. You have been victims, soldiers, heroes; you fought, you lost some along the way; but most importantly, you survived, and I am so very proud of you." Her gaze lingered a moment too long at the Slytherin table.

Draco sighed, dreading the Gryffindor praise and Slytherin bashing that was to come; one he was surprised to find that never came. From the corner of his eye he saw Blaise glare at a Hufflepuff fifth year boy who had happened to glance his way. He nudged his friend, willing him to keep his cool.

"…having said that, it's time that things changed so that we can save ourselves the trouble of going to another war. The houses in this school have been at odds for as long as I can remember, it's time we leave that rivalry behind and unite, not just in theory, but truly in our hearts." Several scoffs and low sarcastic laughter sounded and then died down at once. _Unity, yeah, fat chance of that happening._ Slytherins and Gryffindors hated each other on principal, and Slytherin wasn't much popular with the rest of the houses either.

McGonagall cleared her throat authoritatively. "The Ministry has offered to hold a memorial ball in the school premises this coming Thursday, as a step forward in the direction of house unity. I would urge you to take this opportunity to put old prejudices to rest. Since there's only so much the school can do, I hope you will make your own conscious efforts too. Hogwarts shall no longer stand for anything other than friendly, healthy competition between the houses."

That meant Draco would have to spend more time with Granger, what with them being Head Boy and Girl. They had more than just house rivalry to work through; they had to overcome the gargantuan rift between them caused by forced prejudices. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table; Granger seemed to have had the same thought as her gaze flicked over to him with a mortified expression. He quickly looked away.

 _Fantastic_. She already seemed horrified at the thought of working alongside him. And who could blame her, when over the years in attempts to appease his father, he had made sure he did everything to remind her of her so-called inferiority every chance he got. However, every chance she got, she proved him wrong with her brilliance. _This sure is going to be interesting_ , he thought to himself.

.

Classes were going better than Draco had expected, apart from the hateful glares, no one bothered to insult him or even speak to him, which suited him just fine.

The only person who didn't look at him with contempt, hatred, or pity was Ginny Weasley. It made him feel uneasy, like she knew something about him. He didn't like feeling so exposed. She had Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration with him. The seventh and eighth years had classes together because of the lack of the number of students who had returned to Hogwarts to finish their last year; most choosing to switch schools instead, while the rest dropped off altogether.

His interactions with Granger had also been few, mostly in classes, and they had met once to make the Prefects' patrol schedules. So far they had refrained from hexing one another, managing with glares and scowls instead. He didn't know how to deal with the guilt he felt towards their misguided fall out all those years ago, or the other confusing emotions he felt towards her now. Animosity was easy, it was familiar. He knew how to be mean and angry; he didn't know how to be sorry. Mostly though he chose to avoid her, fleeing any common space they seemed to be in, or keeping his distance and hiding in crowds and numbers.

At the end of the third day of classes, Draco found himself lingering back in the Transfiguration classroom after everyone had left. The question had been eating away at him, and he couldn't take anymore. He had to ask.

He cleared his throat and Professor McGonagall glanced at him over her spectacles. "Professor…"

"Yes Mr. Malfoy, what can I help you with?" She asked kindly.

"I…er…professor, why did you make me Head Boy? I mean I was a…" Draco trailed off, but McGonagall seemed to grasp what he was trying to say.

"I see," she began. "You grew up believing what the people around you told you, Draco, and despite that you tried your best to do what was right. You were just a boy given an impossible task. You were trying to protect your family, doing what you had to do to survive. Plus, you've always been a wonderful student, thus rightfully deserving the Head Boy title." She paused and smiled at him, then continued. "Did you know Dobby worked here in the castle after your father accidently freed him?"

Draco nodded. He had been furious at Potter for tricking his father into freeing that particular elf. Cruel as his father was to the poor creature, Dobby was the closest thing Draco had to a friend at the Manor.

"When Mr. Potter came to me with the suspicion that you had joined Voldemort, Dobby defended you fiercely. He was sure you weren't doing it willingly, if at all you were involved. So many times he reminded us of Lucius Malfoy's influence on you. Even Albus agreed. Dobby worried about you, boy."

Draco felt another pang of guilt.

He thanked the professor and departed from her classroom.

He remembered during that awful year how Dobby kept popping up around him at random times, his huge eyes filled with worry. The elf never said anything though, just checked up on him and left him food when he hadn't been eating well.

He felt a tremor go through his right arm but ignored it. He got those often and was used to it by now. It was just another reminder of the Dark Lords' reign of terror.

.

Draco felt around in the pockets of his trousers and produced a vial that his mother had given to him when he had boarded the train to Hogwarts a few days ago; it was filled with a floating silvery white substance. A memory. His mother had seemed nervous giving it to him, a sense of urgency in her voice.

He needed a pensieve. He could find one in the Room of Requirement, and so he climbed up to the seventh floor and walked three times with his eyes closed in front of the blank wall. _I need a room with a pensieve…I need a room with a pensieve…I need a room with a pensieve._ He repeated the words in his mind and then opened his eyes.

In front of him on the previously unsuspecting blank wall, now was a small intricately carved wooden door. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The room was small, with a book shelf on one wall, a desk in a corner, and an ordinary looking pensieve sat in the centre.

Draco walked over and poured the pearly substance into the basin. He then bent until his face sank into the watery surface of the memory, falling into blankness and then landing in the dimly lit parlour of the Malfoy Manor.

His mother stood, ashen faced, in the middle of the room, facing a very bruised and beaten Rudolphus Lestrange, standing a mere ten foot away.

" _At the fortnight of the month of May, the blood of the one who betrayed the Dark Lord will turn to ice, never to be thawed again,"_ Rudolphus spoke in a dark tone, his wand pointing straight at Narcissa, where a low grey light shot from it at her chest. Draco gasped.

Narcissa's face betrayed a hint of fear before she schooled her expression into one of indifference, the same way Draco had done so many times. So this is where he had learned it from _. "Curse me all you want Rudolphus, I would gladly do it again."_ After years of playing the obedient wife and servant, Narcissa had finally learned to stand her ground.

" _I will avenge the Dark lord, Narcissa. I gave my wife to him, gave myself over to his service and it will not go to waste. Anyone who stood in his way will pay, mudblood and blood traitor alike. You see, that pretty little mudblood's family will be next. She was a friend of your Draco's once upon a time, wasn't she? Oh, and your son will join me. His wand will be the one to cast the Killing Curse. He better make up for what you ruined by saving Harry Potter's life."_ Rudolphus took one threatening step forward and Draco flinched.

"Mother," Draco whispered.

" _I will not let my son be a part of anyone's wretched schemes ever again,"_ Narcissa said coldly. Draco didn't realise he had been shaking and tried to keep his body still.

Rudolphus sneered and his eyes glowed dangerously as everything turned black.

Pulled back from the memory, Draco spun in the blankness and then landed on the floor in front of the pensieve.

He did not sleep well that night, drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Dracoo," a cold voice whispered. "Draco, avenge him. Avenge your master, bring peace to his soul; finish what the Dark Lord started."

Draco jerked awake with a start, only to find a retreating black figure which then turned into a wisp of smoke and disappeared.

On the opposite side of his four poster bed, Harry Potter sat on his, staring at him with a troubled expression of empathy on his face.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco spat, irritated at the knowing look he was wearing.

"You were screaming in your sleep," Potter said carefully.

"So?"

Potter just shook his head and lay back down on his bed with a curt "never mind."

Draco clenched his fist before plopping back down on his pillow. Adjacent to him, Blaise was snoring on his own bed. He really needed some Dreamless Draught if he hoped to save himself from Scarhead Potter's pity. But the blasted potion always gave him headaches the next morning and he wondered if it was really worth it. One glance at his Gryffindor roommates, he decided that it bloody well was.

 **-O-**

 **AN** **: So here it is, the curse. What do you think? Please review**?


	5. Chapter 5: Old Friends

**Disclaimer** **: Everything except the plot belongs to JKR.**

 **AN** **: First of all, so sorry for the late update. Brain isn't behaving so there will be delays and I apologise for that. I am so grateful for your patience and kindness. And so incredibly happy with the love this story is getting. I cannot thank you enough for how amazing all of you are.**

 **A huge shoutout to everyone who post these amazingly detailed reviews. So much love for you guys. It really helps me figure out what I should add more of in further chapters and what readers do and don't like.**

 **Most importantly, thank you EmDani522 for the beta work. So so much love to you.**

 **-xxxx-**

 _"When the water spills, the glass will break_

 _It drips like tears, running up your face_

 _And the hounds will cry, for the dogs of war_

 _But the sounds of joy, that victory will soar."_

 _\- Hands of love, Miley Cyrus_

-O-

The Astronomy Tower was the only place where Draco seemed to find some peace and that was where he often escaped to to get away from the accusing glares everyone kept throwing his way. Even his Slytherin housemates kept their distance from him, blaming him for his part in the war. Blaise was the only Slytherin willing to give him a chance.

Just like him, Pansy Parkinson had become an outcast too when she had tried to offer up Potter to the Dark Lord during the final battle. Theodore Nott had refused to take the Dark Mark despite his father's insistence, so he was happily accepted, at least by the Slytherins. The rest of the houses just kept their distance, but they didn't blame him like they blamed Draco and Pansy. Blaise was never a part of the war at all, and he had shed all his prejudices too when he saw what became of everyone after the war, realising the pointlessness of something as trivial as blood. _It was all red in the end,_ he'd said once.

Draco barely noticed as a particularly cold gust of wind passed him by, making him shiver. He was too wrapped up in his worries about finding a cure for his mother. He wasn't sure if there even was a cure for the curse Rodolphus had put on her, or the pain she was in because of it. He was honestly surprised that she even had the strength to move at all. He shivered again as he imagined the blood in his veins turning to ice. He had spent the last two nights without any sleep in the library, trying to find a cure or a counter curse. He even braved the Restricted Section but kept coming up empty. There had to be something.

There was another matter of Rodolphus Lestrange being free. If he had tried to come to Draco, then he was sure that the man was trying to recruit others too. He was probably trying to form an army. There were still a lot of Voldemort sympathisers left, some who didn't fight in the last war but might try to bring his ideals to life now. If Rodolphus had escaped from a dementor guarded Azkaban prison once, Draco was sure he would try to free the other Death Eaters again, especially since the prison was no longer guarded by dementors.

There was a thought nagging at Draco's brain that maybe he should seek out Potter and ask for help, especially when Rodolphus had mentioned attacking Granger and her family, but he didn't know how. Why would anyone listen to an ex Death Eater?

Lost in his thoughts, Draco hadn't realised that he had moved closer to the edge of the tower, hand clutching the railing and knuckles white, when a familiar voice startled him. "Planning to jump, Malfoy?"

"Why does it matter to you? Would you be sad that the evil Death Eater died?"

"You're not evil," she said meekly, barely above a whisper.

Draco turned around to come face to face with the bushy haired nuisance he called Granger. His face betrayed a hint of surprise at her words but he quickly pulled on his indifferent mask. "No Granger, however much it might please Potter and the Weasel, probably the rest of the school too, I'm not self-sacrificing enough to give them that pleasure."

With quiet footsteps, Hermione came and leaned against the railing, leaving six footsteps worth of space between them. They stood quietly for a while, staring straight ahead at the Forbidden Forest. A unicorn trotted along deep in the forest, its silvery mane standing out in the blackness of the night.

Hermione broke the silence after a few minutes. "You know Malfoy, beneath this cold façade that you keep up; I know there's a boy whose heart is broken from the war just like everyone else's. I know you and –"

Draco cut her off. "Don't presume to know me Granger, we're mere acquaintances at best."

"Really?" Hermione scoffed, anger now taking the best of her. How dare he say that when they'd been friends once, even if it was years ago. "Is that what you told your father when he sent you that letter ordering you not to make friends with a mudblood in our first year?" Draco winced at hearing her use the slur for her own self.

Of course she knew about that letter, he had stupidly left it for her to read hoping that she would understand.

"That doesn't matter now," he said, more for his own benefit than hers. After everything, all the years of name calling and bullying, he was sure things would never get better for them again. They were far from friends now. Even if there was a chance of them being friends again, there was also a matter of him being an ex-Death Eater. That was a bridge they couldn't cross.

"We were friends, Malfoy," she said. " – _friends_. But you turned out to be just like your father, so wrapped up in your pureblood superiority that nothing else matters to you."

Draco sent a cold glare at her, but she didn't even flinch at his rising temper. Stupid obstinate Gryffindor bravery.

"Do not, Granger; do _not_ compare me to my father. I am nothing like my father," he said in a cold voice, keeping his temper in check.

"The hell you're not," she spat.

Draco was seething with fury as he paced back and forth, trying to calm himself down. What was worse was that he was angrier at his father for the life he had given him. That maybe Hermione was right; in everyone's eyes he was probably just like his father.

"You made that choice," she continued. "You listened to him."

"Choice," he scoffed. "I never had a choice. Not about something as simple as who I could be friends with, not about joining the Dark Lord. Crabbe and Goyle were the friends _assigned_ to me, just like I was assigned to kill Dumbledore. Not making that choice, Granger, as you so aptly put it, was not an option. Yet I didn't do it. I failed. That Dark Mark was a death sentence for me and somehow I'm alive in a world where nobody wants me. I didn't have a choice then and I don't have a choice now. He said he'd kill my family; he's gone and guess what? They're still going to die. My mother and my father are the only family I have and they're going to die." He repeated, sounding defeated and indignant.

Draco had stopped pacing now, his hands clenched in white fists.

Hermione was stunned by his open admission.

"What do you mean they're still going to die?" she asked after a minute of silence.

"My father is in Azkaban and –"

"Yes but your mother was forgiven of all crimes."

Draco looked up at her, wondering if he should tell her or not. She could help him, and moreover she deserved to know. It involved her too, after all.

"What is it?" she asked, sensing his hesitation.

"Rodolphus Lestrange, he cursed my mother after the final battle for saving Potters life."

Hermione gasped.

The reality of the situation finally hit Draco that not only was his mother cursed but a vicious Death Eater was at large, intent on revenge and recruiting as they spoke.

"He's free," Draco said in a hollow broken voice, as if he had just realised it. "He's going to kill my mother, and so many others. He's going to kill me if I don't do what he says." How the hell had he gotten into another impossible situation? Did the universe hate him so much that he just couldn't catch a break? One impossible choice after the other.

He looked so broken now, so different from the cold unfeeling boy Hermione always knew.

"What do you mean if you don't do what he says?" Hermione asked cautiously. She too, was reeling from the news that even after the war was over; danger didn't seem to leave them alone. There never was a quiet year at Hogwarts, was there?

Draco stared at her, realising that she was still here talking to him. "He sent me a message, he asked me to join him to avenge the Dark Lord. He said he wants to finish what Voldemort started. I can't do this again Granger, I can't…" He had let all his defences down and told her everything, showing her just how broken and scared he was.

Hermione reached out and touched his arm, right where his faded Dark Mark was. He looked so much like a scared little boy right then that she couldn't help but reach out to him somehow.

"We'll stop him," she said.

"How? He'll have others with him." He didn't want to hope only to find himself crushed by it. He was still a Malfoy and he wouldn't give in to foolish hope.

"We'll find others too. I'll talk to Harry and we'll alert the Order members. We'll figure this out," she resolved.

Draco always wondered where these Gryffindors found such unwavering resolve and strength when he was all ready to fall to pieces.

He nodded.

He knew a free Death Eater would be something that she and her friends would help him with, but he wasn't sure they would extend that courtesy to his mother. He didn't even know if a cure to the curse existed.

"And Malfoy?" Hermione said. He looked up at her. "We'll figure out a cure for your mother too. I need to know what exactly the curse is though."

Draco told her all about the memory in the pensieve, about how Rodolphus wanted to go after Potter and his friends, which included her.

When he told her that Rodolphus was going to go after her parents, she just became awfully quiet. He noticed that she seemed sad rather than worried.

"What is it?" he asked, sensing there was something he didn't know. He knew her parents were still alive and hadn't been harmed in the war.

She shook her head. "It's nothing."

"What happened to your parents, Granger? As far as I remember they hadn't been harmed in the war."

Hermione was taken aback that Draco had paid any attention to what happened to her parents during the war. She looked up at him pensively and then shook her head.

Draco waited for her to say something.

"I altered their memories after our sixth year so that they would forget they had a daughter and move to Australia," she said reluctantly. "They still live there."

"Can't you restore their memories?" he asked. He was surprised that on top of losing people in the war, she had been without her parents too. He wasn't sure he would have let people he loved go that way, making them forget about himself. At that moment, he was completely in awe of the immense strength she had.

"As people say, a person is a sum of their experiences, and when you take that away, you change them. They're not the same now, because those memories are gone. That's the risk you take when you alter someone's memories to such a big extent. And even if I were to attempt to restore their memories, there's a 95% chance of brain damage," she explained, voice breaking at the end.

Draco didn't know what to say, he had never been good with emotions and comforting people. He said the only thing that came to his mind; the only useless thing people say when they don't know how to help someone who is hurt. He said, "I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded.

An uncomfortable silence hung between them before Hermione spoke. "I have to finish my Potions essay before bed so I'm going to go back," she said awkwardly. "We'll figure this out soon."

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his face, albeit forced.

After she was gone, he turned around to watch the unicorn in the forest once again.

 **-O-**

 **AN** **: Guys, I'm taking one-shot requests so message me on tumblr with details mentioned there (tumblr sparkleme26) if you want one written for you.**

 **Your reviews are the fuel to my writing, so do tell me what you think of the story so far.**


	6. Chapter 6: Loony Luna

A heavy book slammed down on the table Draco was occupying in the far corner of the library, tucked away from view by a pair of bookshelves. He looked up from his book at the person who had decided it was acceptable to so rudely interrupt his reading.

It was Cormac McLaggen.

He had once been a part of Slughorn's little club of human trophies, as Draco liked to call it. He hated McLaggen even more than he hated all the Gryffindors combined. He had the brains of a troll on the face of a pygmy puff.

"This table is taken, McLaggen," Draco said calmly. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself than necessary –with most of students hating him already- so he was trying not to show his irritation at the oafs' utter lack of manners.

McLaggen sneered at him. "Your days of entitlement are over, Malfoy. I can't believe you had the guts to show your face at Hogwarts after you let Death Eaters into the school."

Draco clenched his fists, fighting the urge to deck the prat in the face.

"Cormac," Draco heard the silvery voice of Luna Lovegood. "Wasn't it your father who convinced Fudge that Voldemort wasn't back? There was an article about it in the Quibbler," she said. Her voice was so calm, with her face set in a serene smile, that from a distance anyone would have thought she was giving McLaggen a compliment.

"Nobody reads that rubbish magazine," he muttered, disgruntled. He shot Draco a glare and walked away.

Luna had settled herself on a chair opposite Draco's, her books spread out in front of her as if it was ordinary to share a table with the most hated student in school. She was already immersed in writing something on a long sheet of parchment when he cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked up at him momentarily as if to indicate she was listening and then went back to her writing.

"I could have handled that myself," he said.

"I know."

Draco was offended by her lack of attention to him but then reminded himself that she was known for being an odd duck. He stared at her for a minute, waiting for any other response. She remained engrossed in her work so he went back to what he was reading.

He had been speed reading through all the books in the library that talked about curses but he had yet to come upon any that froze the blood. Hermione had been helping him in her free time and knowing her, he was sure she was doing extra research of her own too.

For once, he was thankful for his knowledge of Dark Magic, it saved him a lot of reading.

"My father was hit with that one when I was kidnapped," Luna said, pointing at one heading on the page Draco was reading through. It was a blood boiling curse. He looked up at her, surprised by how casually she mentioned it.

"Is he alright?" He asked.

"He got cured of the curse, yes. He still requires his surroundings quite below normal room temperature. He gets fevers a lot too." She tilted her head slightly, looking at him as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

"Oh," Draco said. "How did you reverse the curse?"

She finished writing on her parchment and started collecting her books, completely ignoring his question. He reminded himself to not get offended by her distrait behaviour.

"You know the Arthurian city of Avalon –"

"I know about King Arthur, Lovegood. People like us were killed for having magic, I know," Draco said irritably at her abrupt change of subject.

"Yes, well, Avalon also means 'isle of fruit.' There was an ancient immortal apple tree there; apparently it still exists, along with a few remains of the city itself. It's rumoured to have a surviving population of Dabberblimps," she said.

Draco was desperately hoping there was a point to her random rant about a lost city. When she didn't elaborate, he asked, "Is there a point to you telling me this?"

"Oh I just find it rather fascinating," she said airily, picked up her pile of books and left.

Draco stared after her in irritation. He had heard her telling Garrick Ollivander her peculiar stories when she had been in the dungeons in the manor. He had sneaked them food and performed warming charms on them, but he had never spoken to her. She was as errant as everyone said she was.

.

Draco hadn't realised that he had fallen asleep in the library. He felt a hand nudging him awake. He sat up, blinking rapidly. Hermione stood towering over him, an amused expression on her face.

"For someone as snobbish as you, you sure drool a lot," she mocked.

Draco's hand flew to the side of his mouth involuntarily. "I do not," he said abashedly, a trail of hastily wiped drool still on his mouth.

"Sure you don't. We do have access to a pensieve, in case you'd like to check for yourself," she raised her eyebrow, setting a rather weighty tome on the table. She sat down in the chair Luna had previously occupied.

"You missed Potions. Zabini told Slughorn you were up in the hospital wing," she said.

"Must thank Blaise," Draco said dryly, still embarrassed to be caught drooling like a commoner.

Hermione had already started to flip through the pages of the heavy book she had brought with her. "A lot of books here were destroyed in the final battle, and McGonagall had all books relating to Dark Magic removed, so there isn't much to go on. But I did find some information on the curse," she said, settling on the page she wanted and turned the book toward him. "Here, this talks in detail about the curse, how it affects the body, how the execution of it works. There isn't anything about a cure but it's a start."

"Granger, I know how the curse works. I know what it does to her and I don't see how reading about that torture is going to help anything," Draco said, vexed. He really didn't want to be reminded of how much pain his mother was in. Just the thought of it filled him with so much anger.

"Good thing I've already done the reading then," Hermione snapped.

It was impressive how soon they could go from playful banter to snapping at one another.

Draco pulled the book towards himself without another word, though he still looked displeased.

Hermione pulled out her potions essay to proofread as she waited for him to finish. She had already made notes from the book; she just wanted Draco to get a clearer idea of how it worked so they could work together on finding a cure. It was important to know each and every aspect of the problem to be able to solve it logically. For the sake of saving Narcissa and finding Rodolphus, they _had_ to be on the same page.

He finished the paragraph about the curses effects on the body and pushed the book away from himself with disgust. _Had he really joined a group of madmen who derived joy from doing this to people?_ His gut was twisting with fear for the kind of pain his mother was going through, for everyone else Rodolphus must be doing this to.

"Okay," he took a deep breath. "So it attacks the temperature of the blood, changing its form. I still don't understand, what is knowing the words to the spell or the effect of it going to help us achieve? We don't have to cast the spell, we have to reverse it."

Hermione gave him a look that reminded him of Snape irritated by how dim his students were.

"Honestly, Malfoy," she sighed. "How you fixed that cabinet all by yourself, I will never understand."

That stung, and Hermione must have seen it on his face because she immediately looked affronted by her own callousness. "I didn't mean to bring that up, I'm sorry," she amended.

Draco just tipped his head a little, indicating a nod.

"Right," Hermione said after a stretch of uncomfortable silence. "We can translate the spell in English. The antidote is usually found near the poison."

"That could work," Draco finally said. He pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote down the spell on it. Finding a cure through the spell itself felt like a long shot, but he was willing to give it a try.

"I spoke to Lovegood earlier. Did you know her father was hit by a similar curse? It boiled the blood, but still, similar," he said as he flipped through the book he had fallen asleep reading.

Hermione's eyes lit up like she had just solved a difficult problem. Draco knew she would make correlations between the two curses, he had already tried to think of any way both could have a common or similar cure.

"Why didn't I think of that? I knew about her father, she could help us," she exclaimed.

"I doubt it. Plus I read a little bit on familiarities between the two, we don't know the cure to that one either," He said. It would have definitely helped if they knew how Luna cured her father, but she had completely evaded the question when he had asked her.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sure we'll figure it out. We'll start by translating both the spells," she said optimistically.

"I asked her how he was cured, she ignored the question in favour of telling me about an apple tree in Avalon," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Luna can be strange sometimes," she said.

For the next hour the both of them worked on reading every bit of information there was about the curses before Draco started to feel too overwhelmed and excused himself to go back to his room.

.

Potter and the Weasel were arguing when he reached the entrance of the boys' dormitory.

"He's clearly lying," Weasley shouted.

Potter sounded like he was trying to make a child understand a very difficult concept. "Ron, I know it's Malfoy and I don't trust him any more than you do, but I see no reason for him to lie about a Death Eater being back."

"No reason except he's one? He's luring Hermione in a trap with his sob story about his mother. He's a bloody Death Eater," Ron said with conviction.

Draco felt like he was being punched, the wind getting knocked out of his chest. He was a Death Eater. He had gotten himself marked, held his arm out willingly enough. How had he been foolish enough to think anyone would believe him about Rodolphus.

"He saved us, at the Manor. We would have all been dead within minutes if he hadn't refused to identify us. Even you and Hermione when you weren't even disguised. I hate him, he's said vile things and been a prat but I think about that night on the tower and I understand," Harry said. "We have to do something or it'll be just like the ministry refusing to believe Voldemort was back."

Draco waited for Weasley to answer, but all he heard was the slamming of a door.

Potter's faith in him was so uncharacteristic that he dared not go inside the dormitory and risk facing either of the two best friends.

He spent the night in the common room instead.

-o-

 _ **Beta love to EmDani522.**_


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